We had a good crowd for the audience: all one thousand of Lucius’ fighting men, sworn to the emperor; men who had seen the chance to escape from the arena and get into the legions. They couldn’t believe their luck, I tell you. Claudianus had had a dozen volunteers trying for every place. He’d had the luxury of weeding out the weak, the soft, the unintelligent, or the too-intelligent, and by the time he’d finished he had a thousand near-fanatics who would follow his commands to the letter.
They had all gathered to watch the bout between Borros and the Drake, which was fine, until a runner came panting from the palace and it turned out that the new ‘cohort’ was required to put on a parade for Lucius.
Pantera made his excuses and left, but not before he’d had a quiet word with Claudianus. He couldn’t afford to be seen, of course; Geminus was one of the few men in the tight little clique around Lucius who could actually identify him, but I watched him leave and he didn’t go far, just ducked into the ironsmith’s down the road where they made the weapons for the arena. I doubt very much if he’d gone in to order a sword.
I was called inside to make a midday meal for Lucius, but he didn’t eat it. I didn’t see what made him leave, but he was gone as if a thousand harpies were on his tail, dragging an unhappy Geminus along for the ride: I hadn’t let Geminus see me, you needn’t think that. I’m not stupid.
What exactly happened to Pantera? I’ve no idea. You’d have to ask one of the others.
I do know that when Julius’ cohort of gladiators marched out a few days later, I marched with them. Nobody asked me, but nobody told me not to. Jocasta hadn’t been to see me in half a month and I was sick of wondering what she was doing. I thought it would be easier to live without her if I was away from Rome.
Of course it wasn’t, but a man can dream, can’t he?
Chapter 42
Rome, November, AD 69
Horus
Pantera arrived breathless at the House of the Lyre, and was ushered swiftly to the room on the top floor by Marcus-on-the-door. Mounting the stairs, Pantera took time to ask, ‘Has Domitian been again?’
‘Three times. Always to the same woman. He pays one gold coin to her and another to whoever is on the door. He watches her. He touches her. He has not yet taken her.’ For this information: silver.
They arrived outside my door. A brazier warmed the landing against November’s chill.
Marcus melted away. Cerberus greeted Pantera with a slow-thumping tail; the spy had come eight times in all, and the last seven, he had brought meat for the dog. Now he had only a handful of dates, but the hound slobbered them out of his hand and lay with a lazy grin on his great-jowled face.
I was not as easily charmed. It wasn’t a good time for Pantera to visit. My eyes were patched by last night’s kohl, my silk tunic creased. There had been no time to change. I opened the door fast, flustered, and let him think that the change in the weather had left me thus; I never did like winters.
‘What are you doing here? I thought we had protocols. Arrangements. You’re meant to send word before you come.’
Pantera still hadn’t caught his breath. He spoke between gasps that came from more than just climbing the stairs. ‘I couldn’t. There wasn’t time. Lucius is too close and the negotiations with the marines at Misene in the south are too delicate; I need to be there. I’ll be away from Rome for some time and you need to know enough to keep going. May I come in?’
He didn’t wait, but pushed past me into the room. Cerberus, well bribed, let him do it.
Inside, I paced the length of the bead curtain, brushing it with my shoulder, drawing out soft discordant music. There was a new vase on a stand by the far wall; tall as one of the silver-boys, and as wide. All around its belly were depictions of men in various acts of sex. It looked Greek. And very old. And very, very expensive. It was; I should have hidden it.
‘You can’t stay.’ I stopped beneath the frieze of Dionysus on the near wall. In my nervous state, my fingers picked at the plaster. I wound them together to make them stop.
Pantera smiled. ‘I don’t need to stay. I need to send a message to Vespasian, telling him that the fleet at Misene will be his by December, but that I have urgent need of more gold to secure it. You have two birds left?’
‘One.’
‘I thought-’
‘You are not the only one sending messages to Vespasian. How do you think Caecina was able to ensure that his defection would be accepted?’
‘Then have you the coding sheets and we can send-’
Sharply: ‘No.’
Our eyes met. With evident care, Pantera said, ‘If you need me to stop coming…’
‘If I need anything from you, I’ll tell you. And just now, I need you to get out of- Oh, fuck!’
Down at the door, where the giant Belgian controlled the entrance, the silver bell rang, twice.
My nerves! I spun on the spot. ‘You have to go. No, there isn’t time. You have to hide. Out on to the balcony. Now! ’
I grabbed Pantera’s shoulders and shoved him through a shatter of pearls, past the vast, satined bed, and on to the balcony. Grey November cloud draped spider-like about the city, muting all the colours. The balcony garden was still beautiful, though. No flowers bloomed now, but many-shaded leaves gave it colour.
The opposite balcony was a good fifteen feet away and the iron railing was much the same as ours, not a safe place to leave from, or to land on. I watched Pantera judge the distance.
‘You want me to jump?’
‘If I thought you wouldn’t die, I’d say yes. But you would, and he’d hear you.’
‘Who, Horus? Who is coming? ’
I couldn’t meet his eye, and just from that, it was obvious: Lucius was coming, and not for the first time.
Pantera looked stricken. I hadn’t told him. Marcus hadn’t told him. The Belgian on the door hadn’t told him. All his careful arrangements had fallen apart. I could have wept.
Dully, he said, ‘How long?’ but we were beyond that. My hands were on his shoulders, my fingers digging tight.
Urgently: ‘If he catches you here, we’re both dead. There isn’t time to get you out, you have to hide. Get over the balcony.’
He knew me well enough to act without asking. I talked as he clambered gingerly over the iron railings. ‘Go down — there, on the left, underneath. Can you see the ledge? It’s like a second floor, hidden under the first. There’s room for a man to lie in there. You’ll be safe. Nobody can see you from above or below.’
I had tried this out; I knew it was true. The climb was terrifying with four storeys offering certain death on the pavings below if you lost your grip and fell, but if you used the wall to hold your feet, and eased your hands down the iron rails, you could find a second platform below the first, with just enough space between for a man to slide in, feet first. The result, of course, was that the same man, if discovered, was trapped.
‘Pantera?’ I knelt on the balcony, head thrust between the uprights. ‘If you speak, if you call out, if you fart, you will be heard and found, and if you are found, we will both face Lucius’ inquisitors. I say this not as a threat, but as the truth. Believe me, he is not one to cross.’
‘I know.’
‘So you need to stay silent.’
‘I know.’
‘But will you?’
He gave an exasperated sigh, quite a feat given the evident fear on his face. ‘Yes, Horus, I will. Go now, let them in. I will stay silent here all day and all night if need be. Just go! And thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me yet.’ With one last nervous nod, I went back to open the door to my room.